In the wide, warm savanna lived a little zebra named Pip. Pip was like all zebras, covered from head to hoof in beautiful black and white stripes. He loved running with the herd and playing under the big, sunny sky.
As the big, orange sun began to dip low, painting the sky in sleepy colors, Pip felt a gentle yawn stretch his muzzle. The air grew cooler and softer. It was almost bedtime, Pip's favorite time of the day.
Time for Pip's bedtime routine! First, a cool drink from the watering hole, gulp, gulp, gulp. Then, a gentle shake of his black-and-white mane to make it smooth. Finally, finding his very own soft, grassy patch, just for him.
As he settled down into the warm grass, Pip looked closely at his own black and white stripes. They went all the way from his nose to his tail, in neat, straight lines! He saw other friends nearby getting ready for sleep too. Leo the little leopard had fuzzy brown spots all over. Gary the giraffe had big, yellow patches mixed with brown.
"Why do I only have stripes?" Pip wondered softly to himself. "Are spots or patches better? Maybe being all one color is best, like the grey rocks or the brown earth." He felt a little bit unsure about his stripes compared to everyone else.
Just then, wise old Mama Elephant walked slowly by, her big ears fanning gently. She saw Pip looking thoughtfully at his striped legs. "What are you thinking about so deeply, little Pip?" she asked kindly in her deep, rumbly voice.
"Mama Elephant," Pip whispered, looking up, "why do I have stripes? Everyone else looks so different. Are my stripes okay? Are they as nice as spots or patches?"
Mama Elephant settled down carefully nearby, making the ground shake a little. "Oh, Pip," she rumbled, her eyes twinkling. "Your stripes are more than okay! They are beautiful! They are special! Just like Leo's spots are special for leopards, and Gary's patches are special for giraffes."
"Your stripes are what make you a wonderful zebra," she explained gently. "They help you look unique in the big savanna. They are a special pattern just for you. Everyone has their own special way of looking, Pip. Your stripes are perfect for you because they are *your* stripes."
Pip thought about this. Mama Elephant was right. His stripes weren't just black and white lines; they were part of him! They were special because they were his, and they made him Pip the little zebra. Being different wasn't strange or less good; it was just different, and that was part of being special and unique.
Feeling much happier and very sleepy now, Pip thanked Mama Elephant. He snuggled down deeper into his grassy bed. The moon was now high in the sky, making his black stripes look very dark and his white stripes look silver in the soft light.
He closed his eyes, feeling safe and warm and happy in his own skin, or rather, in his own stripes. His stripes felt cozy and right, just for him. With a final sleepy sigh, Pip the little zebra drifted off to sleep, dreaming sweet zebra dreams under the quiet, starry savanna night.